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Easy Daze In The Olivines-February 1981

Brian Dobbie,Simon Davis,Chris Hardiman,Mike Sheridan & Bruce Wilson(scribe)

Air New Zealand reluctantly let us on board - Simon,Brian and I totter up to the counter looking like refugees,under a mountain of food,packs and wicked pointed things. At Queenstown motorcamp we demonstrate our competence by spending 10 minutes arguing about whether to pitch the tent or fly or neither and where to put it,and end up pitching both. Mike,Chris and Lynette are suitably impressed.

West Otago beams as the Routeburn bus disgorges us at the Sylvan Lake track - above glint the mica-strewn slopes of Turret Head and Earnslaw,the birds sing,and the crickets crick. The anticipated stroll up the west bank of the Dart River dies at the hands of an unanticipated bluff. Desperate end-of-day energy pushes us up the track into the Beansburn and ebbs away as we collapse above the gorge at 7pm. "Another easy day,eh?",accompanied by a sneer in Bruce's direction is the habitual end to the day from now on.

The Beansburn is an attractive little river,with an old track up it which we try to follow. Above the bush the going is easy. A steep grassy climb and a bit of old snow brings us to Fohn (pronounced "fern") Saddle, a view of distant Lake Wakatipu,and in the other direction the mysterious Olivine River. The night is spent in a bivvy rock amongst a jumble of boulders at the end of the Olivine Ledge - A cosy nook on a broad glaciated shelf. Next day the bush is bashed to the Olivine River,where patches of the red mineral characteristic of the region further north dot its banks.

At Olivine Flats,desolate and gloomy in wind and light rain,our airdrop is anxiously searched for (rain!in our food!),portioned out watched by eagle eyes,and the packaging ceremonially burnt. Packs are winched to groaning backs. The track around the gorge to the upper Forgotten River is surprisingly easy - the hard part is the drag up miles of near level grass to the head of the valley. The rain doesn't mind,and falls untroubled bysore shoulders and thoughts of pit. A rock biv with a classy wall is reached and occupied. It leaks vigourously - the reputation of Moir's guidebook takes a tumble.

We sleep through the total eclipse,listen to the drips,and save food. In the afternoon the route to the Olivine Ice Plateau is recced and the real Forgotten Biv found. Mike and Chris are dragged protesting from pit and some fast talking persuades the party that the higher biv is a veritable palace.

All systems are go for an assualt on the Ice Plateau next day,but low cloud and a freezing wind deter us. After an easy climb we sit just before the snow-slope waiting for the weather to change. It doesn't,so we scamper back down to the biv for more pit-work. Mike arouses some concern by imitating an avalanche and hurting his ankle. The local mouse is warily eyed.

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"This is the day you want to be on the plateau!" Simon rouses us on a crystal morning,and we climb into a white-walled,blue-roofed paradise in a state of high excitement. The Darrans float serene to the west. The climb onto Forgotten River Col is tricky enough to be interesting;the col itself so flat as to be an anticlimax. Accommodation poses a problem - the snow is very hard and the hoped-for shovels absent. Water is no problem - untold puddles on a large sculpted rock by the col. We dig a large rectangular hole using iceaxes,billies and bowls,use the debris to build a wall around it,and pitch a tent and fly.

The Olivine Ice Plateau is literally a plateau of ice - a near-level glacier 2 miles long and one mile wide surrounded on three sides by mountains that rise up to 2000' above its 6000'. We spend that afternoon and the next day exploring and doing easy climbs/walks. The setting sun flames briefly on Cook and Tasman far to the north.

Exit day,early start across the shadowed snow,long climb up and around the Memorial Icefalls and across the sun- and slot-sprinkled snow-field to Solution Col,7600'. Massing clouds to the north are anxiously assessed for their disruptive potential. They creep closer as the Twin Icefall is zigzagged across and the ridge off Destiny reached. Crampons are removed for long swooping glissades down soft snow in a freshening breeze. The unfamiliar world of green entices us down pleasant low scrub across unusual "pancakes" of rock split by deep cracks,to the bush. Here Mike,desperate for a drink,falls headlong into a ditch and waves his feet at us,unable to move. We hip-hop across the foaming brown Joe River on handy boulders and climb to a high grassy terrace to pitch camp. After making disgusted noises about a previous party's ditch-digging and tree-chopping we use their ditch and tent pegs.

That night it rains. Next day it still rains,and the following night it breaks all records. The ditches swell from rivers to lakes and water pours through the downhill tent where Mike,Bruce and Simon huddle and curse. A 6-hour electrical storm flashes derisively. On Day 2-in -the-rain it stops in midmorning,and an attempt is made to dry pits. Mike partly succeeds,Bruce fails. He sleeps outside his sodden pit on a clear calm night on which the temperature drops to -1 just after dawn.

Off down the Joe at last,on a fine day. We try to follow the very detailed description in Moir's,with only partial success. After 2 days on half rations no-one feels terribly energetic. After 11 hours of (in retrospect) fairly straightforward bushbashing we reach the southern edge ofWilliamson Flat and crash. The Joe is a very picturesque valley,and the sight of an enormous river pourihg over a waterfall of unguessable height is not to be missed.

We cross misty,huge Williamson Flat,dominated by Mt Ionia far above,on another fine day. The original plan was to go all the way down the Arawata to Haast,but we are now 2 days late. Heading up the Arawata the track is mostly not followed to Mid-Flat;frora there the track is painfully followed from tree page 32to misleading tree,Mike blazing a zig-zag path as we go. Cloud is building up as we boulder-scramble and scrub-grovel to Arawata Rock,so big it has its own contour on the map. Head-high,wiry scrub+random rocks+stumbley holes+tiredness =frustration! The river reverberates through the rock - like living in a wind-tunnel.

Dicey weather next morning,but no more scrub,thank God! Easy travel in the rain,up the river,straight up a creek,angle rightwards across the grass,spot a cairn,over the stones and brest Arawata Saddle into a cold NW wind. Behind,Eros and Ionia freakily poke blue-grey into a fluffy white sky on ink-blue cloudy canvas;ahead Aspiring is hidden in slate-grey. Far below Liverpool Biv is an inviting orange dot. Ripper!on top by 9.45;the biv for lunch.

Downhill it may be,but easy it sure ain't. We can find no correlation between guidebook descriptions,other people's comments (eg "piece of piss!") and what we can see. Everything is fearsome steep,the rain falls,and it's cold. We sidle across hard snow,slither down a steep creek,spend 2½ hours roping down slabs,then run down a snow slope to the bottom - miles from the correct route. Wet and tired,we collapse at the biv at 5pm for lunch. A cosy hut that doesn't justify the title "biv" (1" closed-cell foam on the bunks),it has a magnificent view down into the Matukituki valley.

Day number Last,steep jog to the valley floor,then head-down-tail-up across the grassy flats in clearing weather. Mike and Chris are well ahead,and meet us with the taxi in the sun. Peace,comfort,Big Yellow and an easy day - who could ask for more.